


Rosemary & Thyme at Hogwarts, or, Pomona Sprout and the Venomous Tentacula

by earlybloomingparentheses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rosemary and Thyme
Genre: Crossover, F/F, First Kiss, Hogwarts Greenhouses, Venomous Tentacula, from tumblr, magical plant pathology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 07:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17137856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlybloomingparentheses/pseuds/earlybloomingparentheses
Summary: Laura and Rosemary visit Hogwarts to help Pomona Sprout with an ailing Venomous Tentacula. Certain romantic realizations are made.





	Rosemary & Thyme at Hogwarts, or, Pomona Sprout and the Venomous Tentacula

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigblackdog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblackdog/gifts).



Three women came together on the Hogwarts lawn, just outside the row of greenhouses that were glinting gold in the late afternoon light. The air was pleasantly cool, a breeze wafting over from the lake, Hagrid’s pumpkins big orange smudges on the sloping hill beyond. The blonde woman in neat, stylish robes opened her arms for the short plump figure before her, whose leaf-green robes were covered in actual leaves and whose fingers appeared permanently stained with soil.

“Pomona.”

“Rosemary. So good to see you.”

The professor and the magical plant pathologist shared a warm hug, Rosemary Boxer disappearing briefly into Pomona Sprout’s mass of vinelike curls. Laura Thyme shifted onto the balls of her feet, hands in her pockets, a curious expression stealing gradually across her face as she watched the women embrace. Eyes narrowed, she stared hard at Pomona. After a protracted moment, clearly feeling she had waited long enough, she gave an obtrusive cough.

“Don’t be impatient,” said Rosemary, slightly breathless, untangling several of her friend’s hairs from her left earring. “Pomona, this is my business partner, Laura.”

“Hello,” said Laura, eyes narrowing further as she shook Pomona’s hand.

“So pleased to meet you,” the older woman replied with a smile. “We must have just missed each other at Hogwarts. But I heard all about you from Rosemary at the exotic herb conference last year. You’ve certainly had some adventures together!”

Laura looked gratified and then slightly sheepish about looking gratified. “Well. Yes, we have, rather. I, er—I heard the conference was excellent and that you had a wonderful time—”

“Oh,” said Pomona, and then, “ _oh_ ,” and then, “ah.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I was relieved to have someone there who wasn’t afraid to correct all the superior-than-thou men who didn’t know a Bubotuber from a begonia—”

“Ha,” Laura interjected. “She does tend to speak her mind.”

A peculiar pause intruded and Laura and Pomona gave each other confused smiles. Rosemary looked baffled.

“So where’s that ailing Tentacula?” she said finally, and the other two started guiltily.

“Right. Yes. This way,” Pomona said, suddenly brisk, “in Greenhouse 3. I’ve been following the regimen suggested in Lyell’s _Care of Class C Plants_ but it hasn’t done a bit of good. The charm at the full moon made it droop even more and the lacewing potion has had no effect at all.” She led them into the nearest greenhouse, opening the door on a humid room bursting with trailing vines, bright flowers, several chattering seedpods, and a tree that reached sorrowfully towards them as they entered.

“It’s back here. Seemed counterintuitive to move it out of the greenhouses I use for teaching, seeing that for once it’s _stopped_ trying to strangle the students, but when plants start behaving peculiarly I always say it’s best to use caution…”

Rosemary and Laura both nodded, sharing a knowing glance. “There is a very suspiciously aggressive Flutterby bush in our past that proves that point rather too well,” Rosemary said darkly.

Pomona shuddered. “My Venomous Tentacula hasn’t done anything sinister—well, not since it fell ill, at least—but it’s _very_ sad to look at.”

She was right. The vining plant, usually lively to the point of aggression, sagged pathetically in its pot, creepers splaying out like limp limbs over the edge of the table. As Laura leaned in to get a closer look, one tendril made a feeble attempt to reach for her, then flopped back down.

“Good heavens,” said Rosemary. “I haven’t seen such despair since Laura was told by a very officious sergeant in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that she was a ‘nosy old lady.’”

“I was not _despairing_ ,” said Laura, puffing up, “I was _outraged._ Old lady! Just because he was barely out of nappies—”

“Young people these days,” said Pomona, shaking her head. “So impolite. At any rate, you’re a spring chicken compared to me!”

“Oh, well,” said Laura, flustered, “ I don’t know about that—”

“It’s certainly true,” insisted the professor.

There was another peculiar pause as the two women exchanged embarrassed smiles.

“So, we’ll take a look…” Rosemary said, prompting them both.

“Yes,” Pomona replied quickly. “Yes. I’ll fetch you two in an hour or so for dinner and show you to the guest room. Rooms. Er,” she said, and left in a hurry.

Laura turned away hastily, bending over the plant.

“Laura,” said Rosemary, in a tone that Laura knew from long experience meant that Things Were Going To Be Discussed.

“Mm,” she hummed, poking at the plant.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“What?” Laura’s tone was full of innocence as she prodded the soil in the Venomous Tentacula’s pot. “I don’t think so.”

“Laura.”

Rosemary’s tone was only getting sterner. Laura sighed into the plant, stroked a limp leaf, jerked her hand back quickly as the Tentacula made a halfhearted effort to ensnare her fingers, and then gave in.

“Did you and Pomona Sprout…” she began.

“Did we…?” Rosemary pressed, looking hard at the back of her friend’s head.

“You know. At the conference. Did you…the two of you…”

Rosemary sighed. “We had a bit of a fling, yes. Is that a problem?”

Laura was quiet for a long moment. Then she turned, looking nervous and embarrassed. “No. I only wondered if…I didn’t know you—with women, that you—”

Rosemary’s brow furrowed. “If this is going to be an issue—”

“Oh, don’t be daft,” Laura said, suddenly exasperated. “I only wanted to know if. Well. If that means you and I might—er.”

Rosemary’s eyebrows shot up. She stared at Laura. Laura looked back steadily, a little defiant and a little hopeful. Then Rosemary shook her head, a smile spreading across her face.

“That you and I might _er._ I never thought I’d see the day. I think we might _er_ , if you’re serious. I think it might be quite a lovely thing for us to _er_.”

“You’re insufferable,” Laura said, looking annoyed, “come here—”

Their first _er_ was quite nice indeed. It was warm, and familiar, and smelled like dirt. As their lips moved against each other, the Venomous Tentacula feebly raised a vine as if in celebration. Rosemary cupped her hand gently around Laura’s cheek. Laura raised her hand to the back of Rosemary’s head. A scream shattered the quiet from somewhere out on the lawn, and the women broke apart, heads swiveling.

“Someone’s been attacked!” they heard Pomona Sprout call frantically, and their eyes met.

“Our _timing_ ,” said Laura emphatically.

“Terrible,” agreed Rosemary.

“Why does this sort of thing always happen to us?”

“It’s a mystery. Do you want to go snoop around?”

“Oh, yes. We’re nosy old ladies, after all.”

“We certainly are,” Rosemary agreed, squeezing Laura’s hand. “We certainly are.”


End file.
